#but i doubt people actually know the book

[ohbueckers]

SUIT & TIE. all pressed up in black and white, and you’re dressed in that dress i like. love is swinging in the air tonight, let me show you a few things.

ONE-SHOT! pairing, paige bueckers x reader. notes, another request i got done in ample timing because i’ve been procrastinating the last two parts of what’s my name real bad LMFAOOO enjoy! @patscorner @thaatdigitaldiary thanks baes i needed an excuse to use this picture… warnings, sexual content.

you’re standing near the grand entrance of gala, lingering behind as your parents moved effortlessly through the crowd, shaking hands and greeting guests. you’d been to many of these events for their business, and yet you always seemed to dissociate. you glance down at the dress you’re wearing—your girlfriend’s choice, of course. it fits you like a glove, the deep color standing out in a sea of black and white. paige had insisted on it, and you’d given in because the way she looks at you in it is worth every second of doubt you’d had when she first showed it to you.

but paige was late. again.

your dad walks up to you, a smug smirk on his face as he sinks his hands deeper into his pockets. “she’ll be here. follow us in,” it was like he could read your mind as he throws his head in one direction, which you figure is the main hall where the night is supposed to start. his arm extends, offering for you to take it, and after a brief pause, you do, rolling your eyes with a half-smile before threading your arm through his.

she had promised to be here after the nike event, swearing she’d make it before the night really started. you understood; between interviews, sponsorships, basketball commitments—she’s been pulled in every direction, and truthfully, you couldn’t be prouder of her. her fame had skyrocketed this past year, and it was safe to say she was booked and busy. in the world of paige bueckers, this all came with the territory.

but tonight, you need her here. it’s your parents’ night, the business gala they’ve been planning for months, and you were happy the location had aligned with her schedule. as much as you’ve gotten used to being the one waiting for paige, there’s something about this evening that’s different. maybe it’s the nerves of being around all these people, or maybe it’s the way you can’t stop checking your phone, hoping for an update.

the minutes crawl by slower than they should, your eyes flitting across the room, searching the crowd for a glimpse of white. as your fingers tap nervously against the side of your glass. the crowd blurs together—tuxedos, dresses, champagne flutes clinking—but no sign of her yet.

just as you think about actually socializing with other people, your demeanor probably giving uninterested to anyone who thought about it, the doors part, and she walks in, all legs and confidence as she shoots that smile at everyone. for a second, you think you’ve imagined her, that your mind has conjured her up to calm your nerves. but no. she’s here.

and she looks damn good.

your heart rate picks up as she clocks you from across the room, that familiar smirk pulling at her lips when she sees you staring. she knows the effect she has on you, on everyone, and she’s not shy about it.

when she finally reaches you, standing just close enough, her voice is low, intimate as she wraps her hand around your hip, and she says, “told you i’d make it, didn’t i?” paige has this way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the room. always.

you swallow, glancing at her shoes—a pair of nike’s that she’d probably worn for the shoot. of course, she’d forget to change them after the event. “you were so close to pulling this off,” you tease, nodding toward her feet. “really would’ve had me if you ditched the kicks.”

she glances down, a mock look of realization spreading across her face. “ahh, i knew i was missin’ somethin’. but honestly? i think they make the fit.”

you roll your eyes but can’t help the smile spreading across your lips. “only you would wear sneakers to a business gala.”

she leans in, smirking smugly, her breath warm against your ear as she murmurs, “and only you could make me wanna skip this whole thing.”

your stomach flips, heat rising in your face at the way her voice drops to a dangerous level. her fingers are still gripping your waist like her life depends on it, just a subtle touch, but enough. you should be mingling, keeping up appearances for your parents, but right now? all you can think about is the way paige is looking at you, like she’s already undressing you with her eyes.

she pulls back, just enough to let her eyes trail over your dress—her dress. the one she picked out specifically because, in her words, “i know what looks good on you better than you do.”

she was right.

“you’re killin’ me, you know that?” she mutters, fingers tracing the delicate fabric of the material.

you raise an eyebrow, trying to keep your best formal composure. “i could say the same about you. what’s with the tie?” your hand moves up instinctively, fingers brushing over it. it’s tucked neatly into her white vest, and you’re well-aware of how comfortable you both look right now.

paige’s grin is slow, knowing. “you’ve never seen me like this before, huh?”

you shake your head, licking your lips as you take her in. “no. and i wasn’t prepared. when do those pics come out again?” you’re serious enough to want to commit this image to memory, knowing that the suit, the tie, the whole ensemble might be your new favorite thing.

before paige can respond, you spot movement out of the corner of your eye—your parents approaching. you practically leap out of each other’s arms, standing a little straighter as they stroll over. you felt like two kids in highschool getting caught doing something they weren’t supposed to, despite being full-grown adults.

your dad gives a pointed glance between you and paige, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “well, isn’t this a sight?” he says with an undercurrent of teasing that only a parent could manage. “glad you could make it, paige.”

paige flashes her most polite smile, but there’s a faint blush creeping up her neck, spreading to her cheeks. “wouldn’t miss it,” she says, her voice softer and less full of the usual slang she’d use. she’s met your parents plenty of times before, but something about the way they’re looking at the two of you now, has her just a little shy.

your mom steps in, her own smile warm as she subtly nudges paige’s arm. “best behavior, okay?”

you watch paige turn a shade darker, chuckling as the confidence she walked in with slipped just slightly. she clears her throat, glancing down at her shoes before looking back up, all politeness. “of course. i’m on my best behavior.” who was she convincing?

you try to stifle a laugh at the sight of her—paige bueckers, who commands attention on the court and off, suddenly looking bashful under your parents’ orders. you’re not sure you’ve ever seen her like this, and honestly, it’s a little endearing.

your dad claps a hand on her shoulder, steering you both back to the crowd. “let’s get back to mingling. it’s almost time for the toast.”

the night continues, your parents dragging you from one conversation to the next, making you play the part of the dutiful daughter while paige keeps her distance, blending in with the crowd. well, almost. on her journey to becoming a household-known name, she had been stopped for pictures a few times. you catch glimpses of her every now and then, your eyes meeting across the ballroom, and each time, she gives you that same teasing look. you were glad she was here even if you couldn’t spend most of the night together.

then comes the toast, your father standing up to say a few words while the room quiets down, champagne glasses raised high. you’re only half paying attention, focus drifting back to paige like it had been the entire night, who’s already watching you from across the room. she doesn’t need to say anything, but the look she gives you is clear as day—a tilt of her head toward the hallway, her fingers brushing against her tie, sending a message that makes you wonder what her plan is.

meet me in the bathroom.

as your dad finishes up his speech, you wait a few seconds before you excuse yourself from the room, sure not to make anything look too suspicious, although your parents knew you and paige well-enough by now.

the noise of the gala fades as you move deeper into the hallway, the plush carpet beneath your heels muffling your steps. paige is waiting for you just outside the family bathroom, her back leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, but there’s nothing casual about the way she’s eyeing you up and down when she sees you approaching.

“you lookin’ real fine right now,” paige says, her voice low, a little rougher than usual. she brings her hands up, rubbing them together as she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, smiling through it. “almost didn’t recognize you for a second.”

you smirk, stepping closer, as you swat her hands down, sick of those stupid rizz hands, although it always worked.. “oh, put it down!”

paige laughs, pushing off the wall and opening the bathroom door for you. “c’mon. lemme show you something real quick.”

you step inside without hesitation, the door clicking softly behind you, and in an instant, she’s on you. her hands grip your waist, pushing you back against the door, your ass a cushion against the hard surface. and before you can react, her lips crash against yours. it’s hungry, needy, because paige can quite frankly never get enough of you.

her body presses into yours, and you whimper into her mouth, manicured nails sliding around her neck, tugging her closer. “paige,” you murmur against her lips, but that only spurs her on.

she breaks away just enough to flash you a grin, her breath hot against your skin. “what? you don’t wanna?”

you laugh, the sound breathless as she moves her lips to your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin in a way that makes your knees weak. “i didn’t think we’d be sneaking around at a gala,” you manage to say between gasps.

paige pulls back slightly again, her eyes locking onto yours, head slightly tilted down due to your height. “it’s not sneaking if they don’t catch us,” she reasons, and you suppose she’s right, but there was also no way you’d say no to her right now when she’s looking like that.

you smile, and her hands slide further around your waist. “c’mere.” she bites her lip, reaching for your wrist as she pulls you toward the sink, spinning you around so your back hits the counter. she hoists you up, and you don’t even have much time to process it before she’s on you again, lips finding yours as she slips her knee between your legs, parting them for her next move.

her hands begin gathering up the fabric of your dress, inch by inch. her fingers trail over your thighs, touch giving you goosebumps, and all you can do is breathe her in as she finally pushes it all the way up so it’s scrunched up at your hips.

she pulls away, lips pink and glossy. “you good?” she whispers.

you nod, barely able to speak as her hands explore you, fingers sliding slowly between your thighs, stroking your skin. “yeah.”

it’s all she needs, really. paige drops to her knees, maintaining eye contact as she positions herself between your legs. the sight of her down there should be framed. it has your pulse racing in all the right ways, and you can barely stand it.

she hooks her fingers around your panties, tugging them down like she’s done a million times before, because she has, and you stare at her with all the awe in the world as she pulls you to the edge of the counter. in an instant, her mouth is on you. you didn’t have much time, and the blonde didn’t plan on wasting it. the first flick of her tongue is slow, deliberate, like she’s savoring you, and one of your hands fly to the sink, gripping it for balance as a strangled gasp escapes your lips.

the other hand instinctively reaches to untuck her tie, pulling on it as the movement brings her closer. she smiles, teeth and all against your clit as she glances up, knowing how much you’re enjoying this. she brings your thighs over her shoulders, grip more rough now as she uses them as handles, having you in the exact position she’d pictured.

the sight of her there, all white suit and tie and sharp eyes, makes your breath catch in your throat. her tongue presses flat against you a few times, switching up the pleasure in a way that keeps you on your toes everytime.

you tug on her tie again, harder this time, making her groan into you, and you feel every bit of it. you can’t help it—the way she looks, the way she feels between your legs, it’s all too much. your back arches as you grind against her mouth, your thighs squeezing around her shoulders as the pleasure builds higher and higher.

“paige, please,” you breathe, your voice almost desperate. it’s a plea, but also a challenge, because you know she’s only going to push you further.

she smirks. “not going anywhere, baby. want more of me?”

she didn’t wait for an answer as she removed one of her hands from your thigh, pulling back just enough to see where her fingers were going. right into you, index and middle disappearing, the slight cold sensation of her rings at the base making your jaw drop lower, to the floor if possible.

luckily, you and paige have had sex in a few public places by now that you’d learned how to keep quiet. but right now, she wanted to hear you more than anything. needed to.

“lemme hear that mouth, too. don’t hold back.” and she meant it, head dipping between your legs once again as she got back to work, fingers moving at the same speed as her tongue.

“paige…” you breathe, practically squirming as you screw your eyes shut, unable to contain the whimper that escapes. the thrill of being caught, anyone knocking on that door, or worse, actually getting in, only heightens the sensation. “i can’t—”

“good,” she replies, the teasing lilt in her voice making you moan.

with every lick and thrust, she drives you closer to the edge, and you find yourself losing all sense of time and place, wrapped up in the moment with her. your fingers are still tugging tightly on that tie, and you’re sure this is the closest she’s ever been to your cunt, the closest she could possibly be.

you’re barely holding on, body trembling, legs wanting to close as the pleasure only builds, but paige doesn’t let up. she keeps going, curling her fingers up inside you, mouth moving faster, more insistent. your head falls against the mirror, and you can’t stop the soft, desperate sounds escaping your lips as you come undone without much warning. the sounds were enough.

paige doesn’t stop, not even when she’s sure your body has had enough, and your breath comes out in ragged gasps. she keeps her mouth on you, drawing out every last bit come until you’re spent, legs shaking around her shoulders.

when she finally pulls back, her lips are swollen, and there’s a smug, satisfied grin on her face as she runs her tongue over her top lip. she doesn’t say anything, but she stands up, pulling up your panties with her, making sure they hold every bit of the result she’d given you for the rest of the night. uncomfortable, but you didn’t have much of a choice.

and it’d give the blonde a present for when they’d get pulled down again later.

you’re still catching your breath, your fingers loosening from around her now shriveled tie. paige looks at you as if she’s just won a championship, glancing down at her chest as she tries to smooth out the tie, tucking it back in her vest. “good as new,” she mumbles.

you laugh, breathless, shaking your head as you tug her back into you, pulling her in for a kiss. “shut up,” you murmur against her lips, tasting yourself on her tongue.

but before you can say anything more, she pulls back, her grin widening as she whispers, “round two at the hotel?”

you’ll never be able to look at her in a suit the same way again.

[spot-the-ableism]

https://www.tumblr.com/homochadensistm/762029424206020608/do-not-open-this-persons-archive-and-go-to-october

just was made very uncomfortable with the use of the r-slur (especially as an autistic person)

“The R-word, also known as the R-slur, is a hurtful term that remains prevalent throughout social media, according to a Kantar Social Listening study. The research shows that when social media users are posting about people with intellectual disabilities, 7 in every 10 of those posts are negative, and 6 in 10 contain a slur.  The R-word is a form of hate speech that stands for “retard,” “retarded,” or other offensive words ending in “-tard.” While “mental retardation” was originally introduced as a medical term in 1961 for people with intellectual disabilities, in the decades since, the R-word has become an insult used all too commonly in everyday language. Those who use the R-word often do so with little regard for the pain it causes people with intellectual disabilities—and the exclusion it perpetuates in our society.” -source

there’s not exactly any perfect resource I can point to that explains everything correctly so I will explain, since I will be @‘ing homo with this information I genuinely do think it’s that because their first language is not English they probably don’t know about the reason why people are upset, so I am using the benefit of the doubt.

“Retard”, “retarded”, “retardation” and “retardant” are all words that mean to slow or delay something. It’s originally a French-ish word.

there are many different contexts that the word is used, not all times is it a slur.

But the reason it is, is due to almost a hundred plus years of systemic abuses to intellectually disabled people, epileptics, people with learning disabilities and people with autism and schizophrenia.

for almost a 100 plus years people were sent to institutions or asylums to live out the rest of their lives abused or dying, many many people died in those institutions.

they were diagnosed with “mental retardation” which is actually an umbrella term for all sorts of mental and neurological disabilities, many people with Down’s syndrome, facial deformities and differences, people without the use of their vocal cords and more were also treated in these asylums and institutions and were among the many effected by the rampant systemic ableism and eugenics of the time.

there is this idea that asylums and institutions are not bad, when in reality it’s been almost 200-300 years of them and you can have families and friends and people who wrote books about it and they’ll tell you what it is. Hell.

so why did I give you that context?

well the reason “retarded” or “retard” is a slur is because of those institutions and asylums treatment of people they called the R slur.

their autonomy was taken away, they had no rights, anyone calling out the abuses of institutions were for a long time also penalised, and the eugenics of the time had swayed way too many peoples opinions of the rights of the neurodevlopmentally disabled.

over time things got better and the eugenics of it all started to be penalised, but the fact remains that the r slur is incredibly hurtful and harmful to people still to this day.

there is generational trauma that comes with being neurodevlopmentally disabled or having intellectual disability.

so a lot of people are very insulted and upset at the usage of the word as a slur to insult or belittle others.

I hope that makes sense to you @homochadensistm

[sweetbillwriting]

The Key To His Heart - I

Description: As a hard-working novelist and single dad, Bill hasn't had much time for dating but gets an unorthodox chance to meet women when his friend persuades him to be a part of a dating TV show. 

Characters: AU Bill Skarsgård, where his life changes in 2013 and later 2019. 

Setting: L.A, 2024, but in an alternative universe with Bill having a completely different life.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes. 

Notes: I changed the title of this story! This is just a fun story; please don't overanalyze too much haha. Here is the teaser.

Bill would never confess how much he missed a woman in his life. He wasn't the type to talk loudly about his feelings with friends or family, so instead he carried the loneliness by himself. He did everything by himself and even for his daughters because he wasn't just a separated dad; he was a widower. He didn't have anyone else to parent with, but he didn't have anyone to be a man with either. He needed a woman in his life that could lift him up, share the good and the bad with, and snuggle up with at night. He was ready now, ready to let a woman into his and his daughters' lives, but he felt it would be hard, he had already had a big love.

He stood in front of a full-length mirror in his walk-in-closet. His bedroom had it when he moved into the mansion, but he didn't have enough clothes to fill it, so more than half of the shelves were full of books and movies instead. He wore a dark blue suit with a light luster in it, paired with a crisp white tee. His hair was combed messily back and to the side.

Bill knew he was handsome. He was tall, had an athletic build, and features that fit a high couture model. He rarely felt self-conscious about his looks; instead, it was his way of being that could make him doubt himself. He was a thinker, and because of it, he was not always fully present within the presence he actually was in. He got nervous in the spotlight and could be so goal-oriented he could sometimes stomp on others feelings, never on purpose; he just liked honesty and open communication, but not everyone could handle his ways. He was not a charming prince. He didn't have American charm and timing, he had Swedish awkwardness and ironic humor. Why he would participate in a dating program on TV confused him more than the people surrounding him, but his friend, Herman, had persuaded him it was a great idea that he could bring something new to the format. Similar programs had been made for years, but it had more or less been men shaped in the same mold.

Herman sat behind Bill on a bench with an emerald green velvet cushion and agreeably nodded towards Bill.

“You look great, man,” he said, and stood up from the bench. He cleared his throat to stress Bill a bit; both of them knew twelve women were waiting on him downstairs along with a film team. Bill swallowed hard; his chest even pained with nerves, and for some seconds he thought about refusing to go down. It all was so silly, and that twelve women would want to date him felt impossible; they would leave the first week when they realized he was a workaholic just thinking about his daughters and new projects. He had never dated, he didn't really know how you did it, and he didn't have female friends; he wasn't such a man twelve women would fight about.

“Time to meet the chicks,” said Herman playfully. He was a producer for the program, and it was important for him that Bill performed. Bill nodded and laughed nervously before going to the stairs. He could see how the cameraman, behind the camera pointed towards the stairs, started to film. He took a deep breath before walking down the broad staircase with a straight back and a hand in his pants pocket.

It started now, the adventure. He looked out over the sea of women standing by the end of the stairs, waiting for him; most of them were dressed in cocktail dresses and heels. They applauded when they saw him, and he smiled, embarrassed, looking away so they could see the deep dimple in his cheek. He could hear some giggles of endearment of seeing him blush lightly. A servant came up to him with a silver tray holding champagne flutes. He gave the glass a displeased look. It wasn't the glass he had said they would use. Champagne shouldn't be served in flutes, but he still gave the server a small smile before taking a glass.

“Ehm, Yeah, welcome to my place. I hope you will feel at home. I look forward to getting to know all of you. Cheers!”

He wondered if he sounded awkward, like a nervous teenage boy, but he could see Herman behind the girls smiling pleased. The girls lifted their glasses and cheered with him. Bill smiled wide at them because they actually looked at him like he was extraordinary, and some of the girls were so fine he could feel his heart beating with attraction. This would be interesting.

×××

It was not as bad, as he had thought it would be being the center of attention of twelve beautiful women. It was a cocktail party with just him, the women, and of course the camera team, but they kept their distance even if he knew they captured everything on tape. Wherever he was, the women looked at him, even if they talked to each other. It was strange, but he also felt himself grow a few inches. He talked lightly with some of the girls, but there were a bit too many impressions to take everything in. He was talking to two women about their hometowns when suddenly someone took his hand and pulled him out on the deck surrounding that part of the house. It was a woman with long raven hair and golden eyeshadow. She was probably some years older than himself.

“Maria,” she said confidently and stretched out her hand to him. Bill smiled, impressed by her self esteem, and shook her hand.

“Bill.” She laughed softly and nodded.

“I know that.”

“You do?” Bill said playfully and took a sip of the old-fashioned drink in his hand.

“Mhm, you know, you might be the reason I'm here.”

“Oh yeah?”

There was a flirty vibe between them at once, and Bill really liked it.

“Yeah…” She gave him a teasing smile before changing the subject. I'm a writer too.”

“Oh? What do you write?”

“I write for teens, like teen noir.”

Bill nodded; he had heard about the genre but couldn't really say what it was, and at that moment he didn't feel he needed an explanation.

“I guess I haven't read anything by you then.”

Maria shrugged her shoulders as a joke, and Bill smiled.

“I think we could be a fantastic team…” Her voice was low and she looked at him with big eyes. She was no longer as flirty; she looked more at him like she already had a crush, and Bill felt the nerves go up at once.

“Yeah, yeah…” He drank up his drink. “Time to find a new drink,” he said, and he showed her his empty glass. Her soft eyes became a bit much for him, but he also knew his assignment for the night was to talk with the women, as many as possible.

×××

“Violet,” she said with a giggle. She looked like that girl he would call an American “girl next door." They stood by the bar the production had put up in the living room while he waited on his Negroni, and she just had gotten her Cosmopolitan. She looked really young, and he was right.

“I'm 22. That's not a problem, right? You felt so open in that interview.”

“No, no… But I should be honest and say I've never dated someone so much younger than me.”

He gave her a quick glance. Her legs were long and golden and looked so smooth.

“I'm mature for my age. I have my own company, you know.”

“Oh yeah?” He said interested but started to imagine it was something silly, like selling unicorn keyrings.

“Yeah, I sell environmentally friendly plastic products to hospitals, like gloves and mugs, and so on.”

Bill looked at her, surprised. It wasn't what he expected from a 22-year-old.

“That's, that's impressive.” He smiled at her and she giggled proudly.

“Yeah, it actually works really well.”

“When did you start it?”

“Two years ago. I studied to be a nurse but saw how many plastic products the hospital used and felt I wanted to make a change.”

Bill couldn't stop smiling because the more she talked, the more impressed he got.

“I think it's my turn now,” said a girl next to them. She was short, so he needed to drop his gaze. He looked at the girl's face for a few seconds, then wiped the corner of his mouth while swallowing hard. Wow. Wow. He had said Ana De Armas was beautiful in his interview, and here was her lookalike. He turned to Violet with a smile, trying to mask his feelings.

“Thank you for the conversation, Violet.” She smiled disappointedly and looked at the girl who had enough guts to lay her hand on his arm and steer him away from her and the other girls. She steered him to the hallway where no one was and stood a few steps up the stairs to be as tall as him but also have her arms around his neck. Bill had his drink in his hand, but he also felt it would be a bit much for him to feel the girl's midnight blue chiffon dress with his fingers.

“I read that you're a leo,” she said sensually, and Bill smirked in attraction. Her name was Camila, and she radiated sexiness in such a natural way.

“Yeah?”

“That's why all of us look at you like you're a god. We want to worship you, and you love it, right?”

Bill laughed and snapped his neck as an answer.

“And you deserve the attention. You're really ambitious, creative, and full of passion.”

He just stood and smirked, especially because she dragged her long nails through the hair on his neck, and he could feel it tickle all the way down to his cock.

“What's your sign?” He said and took a sip from his drink.

“Scorpio.” It didn't say Bill anything, but even that sounded sexy, so he licked his lips and gave her a pleased nod. His full attention was on the sensual brunette in front of him, so he didn't notice that two women walked by the hallway and looked at them. They were on the way to the bathroom, talking about his latest book, when they saw Camila standing with her arms around Bill's neck. The redhead, Sandra, looked at them with big eyes while Maria looked away.

“So typical it's her he stands like that with...” said Sandra, and rolled her eyes. Maria didn't say anything but looked at Bill disappointedly.

×××

Bill saw a pair of eyes behind a camera that stared at him. It was Herman who, with a head movement, told him it was time to go to the next woman. Bill didn't feel the need though; he liked being worshiped under Camila’s gaze.

“Ehm, hm, I must give the other women my attention now…” he said. The sigh was close. He wanted to stay there.

“Do you?” She said it teasingly and dragged her hands over his shoulders. Bill nodded a little with a strained smile. “But thank you for your time.”

Camila released him slowly and turned on her heel. Bill looked her up and down while they both walked up the short stairs to the rest of the big hallway. Maybe he already knew who he would choose in the end.

While walking into the living room, several of the girls smiled at him to allure him to talk to just them, but Herman, behind a camera, nodded Bill towards a bleached bottle blonde by the fireplace. She looked like his own age, but not at all his type. Her dress was strapless and made of burgundy faux leather.

“What's your name?” He asked her kindly while she played with her bleached hair.

“Victoria,” she said with a sweet smile. Her voice was soft as silk and nothing he had expected. “We have actually met before.”

“Have we?” Bill furrowed his brows but also felt stupid that he didn't remember her. Victoria smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

“My dad owns a bookstore close to Central Park, and you were there to sign some books... I understand you don't remember me; it was a long time ago, and I had another hair color.” Bill nodded, trying to remember her or even the bookstore, but he couldn't find anything in his head. He did so many signings, especially in New York, so he couldn't remember.

“What hair color did you have then?”

“Light brown, sort of, the boring kind.”

“Like me?” Bill quipped with a smirk.

“What? No, no. Yours is much more chocolate; I was just… Like a rat.” He smiled amused and took a sip of his drink.

“What do you work with?”

“Ehm, I actually work at the bookstore. It's fun because my dad lets me try all kinds of business.” Bill didn't want to be the person judging her for her work, but standing behind a counter in a store felt really uninspiring. He was himself super ambitious and wanted a woman with similar attributes.

“I'm sorry, Victoria, but it's time for me to give the other women a chance.” Victoria nodded.

“Of course, of course.”

But Bill didn't go speak with another girl; instead, the team led him to an armchair between the plants out in the orangery. He knew why they wanted him there; it was time for him to receive questions about the girls that they would edit so it would seem like it was his own thoughts. It would be cut into the show so the viewer could follow his feelings and thoughts.

“Camila is something else… I can't deny I already like her,” he said with a smirk and dragged his hand over his thighs. “I like Maria too; I think she might be intelligent, and we would have much in common. Violet is impressive for her age…” Bill got lost in his own thoughts, thinking about the girls, but mostly Camila.

“What about Victoria?” Asked Herman. Bill knew the viewer wouldn't hear the question, so he must answer it like it was his own words.

“It doesn't feel like Victoria and I have so much in common.”

Bill nodded to himself but then realized he didn't know a thing about Camila but still had her as a favorite. Was he just shallow?

Bill was questioned on whether he believed his soulmate was there. He wasn't really that sappy, talking about soulmates, but he knew what was expected of him.

“I think my soulmate can be here; I look forward to getting to know them all.”

×××

Two girls with similar looks stood and looked up the big stairway leading up to the second floor, where they didn't have permission to be. By the first look, it looked like the brunettes looked at it dreamily, imagining themselves walking up the stairs with Bill, but it wasn't what they looked at. On the wall by the stairs was a big family portrait. Bill looked skinnier with a young girl in his lap; next to him sat a woman with dark blonde hair, heavily pregnant. The couple looked at each other with small, loving smiles while the child smiled big at the photographer. The girls look at Bill's wedding band, then at the woman's big diamond on her finger.

“Isn't it a little bit strange he let it hang there? I mean, it is his ex,” said Julie.

“It's not his ex; it's his late wife. His daughters’ mom,” said Esmeralda lowly and gave Julie an annoyed look.

"Yeah, but couldn't he have taken it down for now? It feels like he’s picking a mistress when she's up there.”

Esmeralda didn't say anything, just crossed her arms and shook her head. Just then they heard footsteps from the top of the stairs, and they both looked up, seeing Bill walking down with elegant loops. He smiled at them and wondered if they stood there waiting for him. He didn't notice how they were looking at the picture, he was so used to it hanging there he didn't really think about it.

“Hey?” He said and walked down to them. Julie blushed and smiled. She felt stupid for commenting on the portrait now when he stood in front of them and gave them a look a married man wouldn't. Esmeralda smiled a bit nervously but answered his hey with a hello.

“What were your names again? I'm sorry, there are so many names.”

They were the girls he had talked about their hometowns with. Both of them answered with sweet smiles, hoping they gave a better impression than the other.

“But both of you're models?”

He said, and looked at them up and down. It was just a reflex, their most important tool was their bodies, so it just went that way.

“Yeah, but with quite different things, I think? I do mostly lingerie shoots.”

Bill looked at her pretty face, trying not to look at her body. He wanted to imagine what she looked like under the black dress, but he didn't want to be that sort of pig and just smiled and nodded. Esmeralda didn't say anything and let Julie continue to talk.

“Are you interested in fashion? Maybe you have seen something with me then?”

Bill laughed uncomfortably and scratched his jaw.

“No… I'm dressed more or less the same way every day. I'm completely lost when it comes to fashion.”

He turned his gaze towards Esmeralda too, but she looked away. He got the feeling she might have lost interest in him all ready. Julie laughed and took a step closer to him, so she stood a bit in front of Esmeralda.

“I could help you with that.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely.”

Bill smirked, and without thinking, he got that feeling he wanted to tease her.

“I think there’s a fashion designer here, isn't there?”

Julie looked at him a bit irritated and put the tip of her tongue against her top lip. It was unnecessary, and maybe she would take offense for real, but it has just come as an impulse to tease her a bit. It didn't seem like it was appreciated, though.

“Bill?”

He turned towards Herman's voice, who stood at the entrance to the big living room.

“Time to give the keys.”

×××

In a popular TV show, the man gave the girls roses as a symbol they could stay; Bill would give them the keys to his house. They were just symbolic keys because his manor had fingerprint locks on every door, but it looked nice that he gave them each a golden key. He thought it was silly; why couldn't he just say who got to stay?

“It's better TV,” said Herman, but Bill still thought it was silly. Oh well, he would just play along.

This time all the girls would get a key. It was only more than right because he hadn't even had time to talk with them all. It wouldn't be fair, not to himself either. He would call them up in order of his interest. The first being who he was most interested in, then continued down to the one he was least interested in. He looked at the girls standing in front of him expectantly, like he had their lives in his hands. He took a key in his hand, looked at its old style but in shiny gold, then up towards the girls.

Camila.

He smiled big when she walked up to him, feeling a tickling feeling in his lower belly, but when he looked behind her, he could see several girls looking at each other pointedly. He felt his throat dry up. He knew they thought he was predictable. Maybe they had even seen them in the hallway. He turned his gaze towards Camila again and smiled warmly at her. She didn't seem to notice the girls judging stares, and he wouldn't let her know about it. He gave her the key, and then she walked away to the side, being an audience to the rest of the ceremony.

Maria.

Julie.

Violet.

Odette.

Tiffany.

Sienna.

Sandra.

Rose.

Brigitte.

Victoria.

Esmeralda.

×××

The camera team also took some of the girls to the armchair in the orangery, one by one, to see what they were thinking about the man they would move in with. Bill pretended he didn't notice that it happened, but in reality he was completely aware of who they brought with them, and it stressed him a bit.

Rose: He's super handsome! But still cute with his big eyes.

Victoria: I don't know why he didn't think I made a good first impression. I don't know; he's hard to read.

Sienna: He seems sweet; maybe even a bit shy?

Camila: I think we have some sort of chemistry. It feels good.

×××

Bill stood in the closet again, but now dressed down to his boxers. He hung up the suit again and then stretched out his back so it cracked satisfyingly. It had been a long day with many impressions, and more would come. Twelve women lived under his roof, and it made him a bit nervous. Five of them lived in the mansion, while seven of them lived in the guest house on the property. Some of them shared a room, and he wondered if it might have started some drama between them. He wouldn't have liked sharing a room with a stranger either. He laid down on the bedroom floor and stretched out before starting to do his obligated pushups. It was especially important now because he couldn't sag up when they would film him every day. While doing his workout routine, he thought back on the women. Several of them had Hollywood good looks, but he wondered if they were more than that. He needed someone who could challenge him intellectually and who could inspire him. A pretty face would maybe be interesting for a few weeks, but in the long run, other things were more important. He thought about Camila. Sexy, sexy Camila. He hadn't even asked her about her profession or her age. He felt ashamed while thinking about it. 

Bill did his nightly routine but couldn't stop thinking about the girls’ looks behind Camila during the ceremony. They had judged him so hard. Sandra, Maria, and Esmeralda had looked at each other like he was a pig. Was he? He had never seen himself as shallow, but Camila was just too good to be true. While crawling down into bed, he instead thought about how nicely the dress had fallen over her curves and how erotic she looked when she licked her blushed lips. What did she wear under such a tight dress? It didn't look like she wore a bra, and he couldn't see a visible panty line. Did she wear underwear? If he had been so sneaky and let a hand move in under her dress, had his fingertips met a wet pussy? He would have petted it like it was the sweetest little kitten. 

Fuck, he was a pig. He looked down at his erection like it had betrayed him. It wasn’t starting well if he was already getting hung up on one of the girls. He needed to get to know Camila instead of just thinking filth. She would be his first evening date. He nodded to himself and looked up at the ceiling. 

She looked horny. She had wanted him. She was probably that sort of girl who loved sucking cock. She would deep throat him completely and look up at him with tears in her eyes while he hit the back of her throat over and over. 

Bill didn't feel ashamed when he pulled out his cock and dragged his hand over it harshly; he just thought about how he would have thrust his cock hard into her mouth and made her feel distress for a few seconds by the suffocated feeling. When he came over his stomach, he felt ashamed though and took a napkin out from his nightstand table and wiped his stomach, grossed out by himself. It wasn't okay that he sexualized her like this already. He needed to treat these women with respect and not reduce them into sex objects when he was alone. He could do better. He was better. 

×××

The alarm clock rang at 06.30, but Bill shut it off and turned to the other side. He had two more alarms, so he never listened to the first one. He wished he could just sleep until 11.00, but he hadn't been able to do that for five years. When the alarm clock rang again at 06.40, he turned it off, but sat up on the edge of the bed with a loud grunt. If he wanted to go out for a run, his chance was now. At nine, they would all meet for a shared breakfast, and he needed to take a shower before that and make himself presentable for the girls, but also the camera. 

Once again, he stared at himself in the full-length mirror. He flexed his stomach a little but felt so stupid that he looked around to see that no one was looking. It would be impossible, but still he felt watched. He flexed his stomach again. It looked good. Actually, really good. He had worked out hard before the show and would continue; he would not look like some tired old dad. 

After putting on his running gear, he walked down the stairs, but realized then he wasn't the only one up early. A blonde was just on the way out through the entrance door, but she turned around when she heard Bill's heavy steps behind her. Rose looked at him surprised. 

“I thought I was the only one up,” she said with a smile, even if the both of them could see the cameraman in a corner. 

“I thought the same. Are you always up this early?” Bill walked down to her. She was tiny, and he almost laughed when he realized their height difference. Her hair was long and golden, gathered in a high ponytail. She looked up at him, then laughed a little. 

“This height difference…” 

Bill laughed a little too. 

“Yeah…” He looked at her running gear and opened the door. 

“Do you want to run with me?” 

They ran in silence; often Bill ran a bit in front of her because he had such long legs and she couldn't keep up, but he waited for her before running around a corner. 

“Problem keeping up?” he said teasingly.

“Fuck you! It's because you have legs like a damn giraffe!” She laughed when she came up to him. They stood panting together by a little park while Bill smirked at the blonde. 

“Would you just have guessed your way if you were out alone, or do you have a GPS?" He looked at her wrists but couldn't see a watch.

“I just guess. I don't like running with all this technical equipment. I just want to run. Like Phoebe in Friends, you know?” She joked and corrected the high ponytail. Bill made an amused nod. “I always find my way home; that's my talent.” 

“Even to my home?” 

“It's my home too right now.” 

They looked at each other with big smiles for a few seconds before running back to the house together. 

“I can help you stretch if you want?” said Rose when they stood outside of the manor. “I don't mean that in such a suggestive way as it sounded like. I'm a personal trainer,” she said with an embarrassed laugh and looked down at her running shoes. 

“Sure, okay,” said Bill, and he led her to the side of the house where they could be on the deck. He looked at her a little amused because of her size, but when she started to stretch out his muscles, he realized there was more power in her than it looks like. 

“Do you have problems with your left shoulder?” She asked and dragged her hands over his broad shoulders when he sat on the floor in front of her. 

“Yeah, I got it in a mountain bike accident, actually. I wasn't as great as I thought I would be.” He looked up at her with big eyes but was forced to squint because she stood close to the morning sun. She was beautiful like that—rosy cheeked and healthy-looking. She didn't wear any makeup. 

“You must take care of yourself,” she said sweetly. And massaged his shoulders lightly. Bill nodded and looked down at his bare knees, where he could see the scars laying on top of each other. Taking care of himself was not his specialty. 

“I should go and shower... So I don't smell like sweat all day,” giggled Rose and made Bill stand up, towering over her again. 

“I think you smell great.” He smiled kindly; it wasn't even flirty, just his thoughts. Rose looked away a little embarrassed, and it made Bill feel a bit confident, so when she was about to walk away, he took her hand in his and pulled her into a soft hug against his warm chest. Rose giggled and looked up at him, still pressed against his chest. 

“I didn't think about how sweaty I am.” He laughed, embarrassed, and released her. 

“No worries, I like it,” she said with a flirty smile before walking through the house to the entrance door. Bill stood and looked out over the lawn for a while with a small smile. He thought he probably would need just a few minutes of alone time before meeting all of the women again; what he didn't know was that several of them were already awake and planned how to get some time alone with him. One of them even stood by the window watching him when he thought he had some privacy.

×

The girls: 

Maria: Writer, 38. 

Violet: Entrepreneur, 22. 

Camila: Engineer, 31. 

Victoria: Shop assistant, 34. 

Sandra: Fashion designer, 36. 

Julie: Model, 25. 

Esmeralda: Model, 27. 

Rose: Personal trainer, 22.

Odette: Pediatrician, 33. 

Tiffany: Actress, 30. 

Sienna: Painter, 28. 

Brigitte: Chef, 29. 

×

[hollowed-theory-hall]

this is probably stupid to ask, but do you like snape? or the marauders? there's always fanwars happening between marauders stans and snape stans. tbh i'm just curious where you stand (i like both, and prefer their canon selves rather than the fanon which is btw really stupid. they feminized sirius so much its not even sirius anymore.) what made you like snape? if you do, or are you neutral with him? just for a change of question since i always ask about harry.

Thanks for the ask! I don't think it's stupid.

I prefer their canon counterparts as well, the Marauders fanon has so little to do with canon I can hardly call the characters by the same name. They just aren't the same characters. Anyway, I'm gonna try and summarise my highly subjective opinions about them here.

1. Sirius Black

He's my second most favorite character and my favorite among the characters you mentioned. I wrote about him a lot on this blog, so I don't really feel the need to write more.

But, he's smart, resilient, and goofy on occasion. His love for Harry is one of my favorite aspects of his character because he loves Harry so much. And he has his flaws. He can be cruel, cold, and arrogant and I wouldn't like him as much if he wasn't visibly a member of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black regardless of how much he tried to get away from his legacy. I love how messy his feelings about his family are. He left Regulus' room as it was, even though the rest of the house got cleaned by the Order. He stayed in his mother's bedroom even when all the conversations he had with her portrait were in screams. I love his distrust in Dumbledore after everything he's been through and how he chooses to remain for Harry's sake — he's willing to do anything for Harry's sake.

I just truly love Sirius.

2. Severus Snape

He's the next on this list because I do like Snape, he's not a character I'm passionate about, but I like him. I think he shouldn't be a teacher (I think he hates being a teacher more than his students hate him teaching them) but he's a talented potion maker and wizard. And he is a very entertaining character, even without knowing everything about him.

But what really makes me like Snape is that I find him interesting. I think his psychology is interesting, as is his dynamic with Lily, Dumbledore, and Voldemort. Snape is a fascinating character to study from a lot of angles, and even as a reader, there is quite a bit that's up in the air about him because he's that good at being a spy and not giving us anything.

The other major thing I like about him is his competence as a spy and wizard. If there's one thing I love in my fictional characters — it's competence (and intelligence). I often joke with my irl friends that Snape is the only competent Death Eater and the only competent member of the Order of the Phoenix. We then joke that if we were in his shoes, surrounded by a lot of people who don't actually do anything and we're the only ones affecting this war from both sides, we'd probably be bitter too.

A little note that seems overlooked about Snape often in the fandom, in general, is how we think, "Oh, he's so great at Occlumancy and not being emotional" — that's not strictly true. When it comes to Lily or the Marauders all his well-crafted Occlumancy kinda goes out the window. In books 3 and 5 he throws actual temper tantrums about Sirius Black. Like, I feel Snape, deep down is actually super not well adjusted and is an emotionally unstable mess, but he learned to pretend otherwise. Basically, all the cold facade is just that — a facade. He isn't really that stoic.

3. James Potter

I'm weird about James. Like, he's almost a nonentity and what we do hear about him is either negative or comes from biased sources.

I do tend to give him more of the benefit of the doubt than a lot of other fans who prefer canon James do. He was awful when he was younger, he was a bully and he assaulted Snape and there is no excuse for his actions. That being said, I can believe he changed. War changes you and you'd be hard-pressed to find a 21-year-old who isn't ashamed of a lot of what they did or said when they were 15. And yes, some of what James did is definitely more extreme than that of the average person, but it isn't that extreme compared to the environment he grew up in. Remus tells Harry everyone was casting Levicorpous on each other in the halls. I'm not saying any of the bullying is okay, I'm just saying it probably seemed normal to him and this is important context. Same as I don't think Snape is abusive towards students when put in the context of their culture and environment where, until recently, they caned students (Snape actually seems very averse to corporeal punishment. He also likely treats Harry very different than he does literally any other student, but this is the James section).

I just, like the idea of James changing for the better. I'd like to think he did. That life and war and loss taught him something.

4. Peter Pettigrew

Probably an unpopular opinion, but I like Pettigrew more than Lupin. He's awful, he's pathetic, he's a cowardly rat man and I find his sniveling funny. Whenever I try to think of a what-if scenario in my head, Pettigrew is somehow the key to it. Because he's a character that affects so much of the plot in some incredibly crucial moments — he betrayed James and Lily, he resurrected the Dark Lord, and later, he allows Harry's survival. Idk, I just find his situation and just how pathetic he could get fascinating. It's, like, there is no rock bottom for this guy, he keeps digging. Like, you can't get more pathetic than living as a rat for 12 years when you could've moved to Argentina or something.

And at the same time, he clearly has some residual care for Harry for his father's friendship. He has so many opportunities to kill Harry or kidnap him when he runs away to join Voldemort — but he doesn't. Even after Sirius escapes and he knows his time is up, he still leaves Harry alive. When he is supposed to kill him in book 7, he doesn't, he again lets him go and pays with his own life for it. Like, again, idk, it's just how I feel.

5. Remus Lupin

I know I placed Lupin last, and it's because I don't personally like him that much. Pretty sure this is a little controversial, but I don't really like book Lupin, he does not vibe with me, at all. (Though I'd choose book Lupin over Marauders fandom Lupin every time)

Like, it bothers me that he doesn't actually care about Harry (the only one on the list who willingly physically harmed Harry, in a moment of anger, but still). It was Harry who asked to be taught the Patronus, if it was up to Remus, he wouldn't be involved in Harry's life at all. He tried to run on his wife when she got pregnant because he was scared. Like, Petttigrew is given shit for being a cowardly Gryffindor, but, look, you need some guts to betray your friends, so I'd argue Remus is the most cowardly Marauder (it's easy to be brave when you don't care for your own life).

But, all of this is part of his character and the story wouldn't be what it is if Remus bothered to get his head out of his own ass and check up on Harry. How he behaves makes him my personal least favorite Marauder, but I want Lupin to be a cowardly guy who runs away from attachment and responsibility because he doesn't trust himself with anything (especially not anything good). He's not cool, or suave, and he's desperate for people to like him but without actually knowing him because he thinks that if they do they'd run away screaming like he wants to run from himself. Honestly, I don't get why the Mauraders fandom made James the people-pleaser when Remus Lupin is right there always telling people what they want to hear so they'd like him.

Again, these are all my own personal subjective opinions, but yeah.

[feverflushed]

Also, hello! I'm still somewhat alive, if someone still remembers me lol.

In the last couple of years life has been kind of slapping me in the face, healthwise, but I'll try to be more active!

How's everyone doing? What drama did I miss while I was gone? :P

[somnimagus]

My page for @sheikahzine; about Impaz's duty to her village, empty of people and full of memories.

[id in alt text]

[thelaurenshippen]

cw: harry potter, jk rowling, transphobia

I occasionally see posts/get messages about the various harry potter references in the bright sessions, etc. and I've gotten a bunch of new followers recently so just so any new/younger listeners of my shows know:

jk rowling is a terrible transphobe whom I hold zero respect for and I haven't given a dime of my money to her since she revealed who she truly is. I want the whole bright universe to be a safe space for trans people (including the trans folks in our cast and crew!) and if I could go back and remove those references, I would. but I can't! harry potter was an extremely significant part of my life until...well, until it became very clear who she really was. it makes me so sad to think that folks might be finding TBS now and get thrown out of the story by these references, but just know that the people who made the show do not stand by jk, and that in many ways, the show is a product of its time.

[my-current-obsession]

I am taking note of every single villager who honestly suggests that Micah's half-monster status might have given his chosen bride cold feet and led to her running away and they are ALL dropping several positions in my internal character ranking.

[lemonduckisnowawake]

I just want to make clear something

Vampire Books I'm Interested In

literally anything platonic, ZERO ROMANCE. The zero is very important. Not low. Not a little. Not background. Zero. None. Nada. 전혀 없어야데.

if it must be romantic, at least it shouldn't take itself seriously or be Dramatic and Thematic or have the romance NOT be between the vampire and human. The vampire should be their weird friend who sometimes bites whipped cream cans or honey bottles as a nervous tic

Blood, Gore, Violence, Viscera, Alllll the Guts and mess

if there must be an age gap, consider how funny it would be if the human was older than the vampire

"i am not a vampire. Vampires cannot be Christian. The fact that I hate sunlight, hate garlic, and that my hand is burning as I clutch the cross around my neck that is ONLY BY FASHION CHOICE covered by a turtleneck is NOT AN INDICATION OF ANYTHING!"

if there must be a sexy blood drinking scene, consider how funny sexy it would be if the vampire sips his blood from a wineglass like some tired, adhd, chaotic lawful detective trying to crack a hard case because obviously there is nothing sexier than that

"no. I'm not 'magic.' I'm actually a biological construction created for the purpose of carrying different bloodtypes in me to administer it in emergency cases during this space and matter war. The fact that I am a failed product does NOT negate the fact that I'm not magic. I am *science*" which is to say sci fi vampires

Honestly, just go back into the original lore of vampires and make them bloodthirsty but so calculating. After seeing what Frieren did with demons, we really are missing out on monsters who use the power of words to lure in prey

Vampire Books I'm NOT Interested In

"Bloodsucking is so sexy and intense and dangerous. You want to let me suck your blood so bad. Literally. Please. I will die without blood." Go get a blood transfusion and stop gaslighting women with your easily preventable life or death situations. No, I don't care if vampires are illegal citizens. Just rip out the government leaders' throats and establish a tyrrany where an adventure begins where peoole realize that revenge and violence only creates cyclical cruelty and -

"I will reform this vampire through the power of love and blood."

If it has a shirtless man cover and/or a couple cover, I am automatically suspicious of it

Yes that DOES mean Magiford falls under this. My point stands

However, I will read any and all of these if I'm feeling evil enough and need a victim to target

[fromtheseventhhell]

"Lady of the Riverlands Arya" is a new take to me, and certainly a step up from bodyguard or sailor, but seeing it coming attached with "Lady of Winterfell Sansa" somehow makes me doubt the sincerity of the people coming up with this endgame. I really wish people didn't view Winterfell as the ultimate "prize" so we could get endgame speculations that fit with the narrative and aren't just people assigning roles based on how important they think a character is.

[wild-at-mind]

Not to talk about MRA-lite spaces again but I'm going to need everyone to understand that in these spaces, the subtext of 'men don't get to talk about their problems' is ALWAYS 'and it is women's fault!'

[22degreehalo]

I'll say it as many times as it needs to be said. There is absolutely miniscule actual harm that comes from engaging with Harry Potter in 2024. JK Rowling does not need money. Anything sent her way is less than a rounding error. And the book series was literally EVERYWHERE in the 90s and 2000s. Like it or not, it DID impact a whole generation of people - pretending that never happened is completely absurd, if not outright irresponsible. It happened. It's just a fact. Harry Potter is mainstream. There is nothing that can be done to 'promote' it. It's already there.

What all this obsession with HP on tumblr is about? An easy way to smugly define Good People from Bad People. Because if you *really* cared about trans people enough, you'd hate everything associated with Harry Potter. Regardless of how much you adored it when you were 8 and went to Harry Potter parties with your family all dressed up quoting book lines at one another in your most precious childhood memories because for once your special interest actually aligned with the people closest to you. No, all those positive associations should have been deleted instantly. If you *cared enough*, it would just *happen*.

Which is why a whole slew of people who previously had earnestly reblogged posts about Moral OCD and how bad tumblr can be about it were suddenly cackling about how buying Hogwarts Legacy was comparable to *refusing to throw The One Ring into Mordor, starting a war that would kill millions.* And how donating to a pro-trans charity (an act that would have VASTLY more impact than aforementioned rounding error) is comparable to 'donating to a pro-elf charity' in the wake of that.

Because tumblr doesn't actually give a shit about autistics or OCD sufferers. When we complain about stuff that they also dislike, they proudly reblog that and rage in the notes about how selfish and cruel and Individualist those other people on tumblr are!!! But the *second* they get to paint themselves as the ones with '''''good thoughts and feelings'''''' they take it, and make up posts about how HP likers 'believe they're the main character and everything should revolve around them.'

Is it actually about whether something causes harm? Or is it about dividing the world into Inherently Good People and Inherently Bad People? Is it actually about doing real good for the community and making the world a better place? Or is it about shaming people with the Wrong Emotions until they fucking hate themselves and spend hours upon hours ruminating on end trying to change themselves because their inability to let go of positive Harry Potter feelings is OBVIOUSLY evidence of a truly inescapably evil and cruel and wretched identity that the world would be better off without?

Which is it, actually? When it actually feels a little bit good to feel like you're on the Right Side of all of this, for once?

[bahoreal]

every time i read a fan analysis of the ted lasso final that adds beautiful meaning and depth to his character journey im like damn

i wish thats what they intended to do but i really dont think they put that much thought into it

[sparkthespork]

Ranking Yellowjackets Characters by their Likelihood of Having a Tumblr

6. Lottie

Now she might have the greatest Tumblr vibes out of all of them, but unfortunately she lives in the middle of nowhere without any kind of electronic device except a landline, so her chances of using any social media are next to none. This is very sad because I know her cult-y cottagecore blog would slap.

5. Taissa

Now we have someone who at least HAS a phone, but this ungodly void of a website is so notoriously unmarketable that anybody running for office would have no business using it. Given the reputation she needs to uphold, I can’t imagine Tai uses social media for anything except campaigning.

4. Shauna

Poor thing is trying so hard to act like she’s normal, and having a tumblr is not going to help. The only reason she would end up on here is because she has yet again failed at that. I should not have to elaborate on this one.

3. Natalie

Now I highly doubt that Nat likes social media, but if she used any of them it would be tumblr. You don’t have to be anonymous, but there’s also no pressure to “reveal yourself,” and probably plenty of people on here who like the same bands as her. She might also like all those aesthetic posts with edgy quotes.

2. Misty

She’d come here after the Reddit blackout, if she wasn’t here before. I can’t imagine she appreciates having to sort between actual Citizen Detectives and regular true crime fans, so she still prefers Reddit. But she’d at least enjoy the musical side of Tumblr.

1. Van

Niche and/or old movies, and gays abound? Yeah, Van’s used Tumblr. And would’ve been active on Tumblr until her cancer diagnosis caused her to shut down. All her regular customers are using it too, and if she didn’t hear about it from them, then she’s had a blog since its original days. And she definitely likes typical “Tumblr humor.”

[orificial]

got a lot of feelings about how people are so very comfortable with assigning people with labels that they may not personally identify with or find confining (i.e. twink/bear/other physical archetypes etc) but they may just stem from myself being transsexual and grumpy. as many things do

[thedarklyblue]

i want to KICK someone !!!